Beating the Odds
by Uniasus
Summary: You can tailor situations, adjust the odds to favor you.  But when your odds are zero, your dreams no longer attainable, and there is nothing you can do to twist things to your benefit, someone who has odds will step up and help you. For a price.
1. Chapter 1

Beating the Odds

_By Uniasus_

**Chapter 1

* * *

**

None of them had heard from Sena for a month, but his flight home had been known before he left and Mamori (and Hiruma too) had written down the date of his return so those who could were waiting at the airport to welcome him home.

They waited long past the time it would have required Sena and his parents to leave the plane and collect their baggage, their glances around the terminal slowly fading from expectant happiness to an oppressing concern. Except for Shin, whose face was always set in that grim line.

"Did he change his mind and decided to stay and play amefuto in the USA?" Yamato asked after they had been waiting for over an hour.

Mamori shook her head. "He would have told something like that."

"Fucking shrimp," Hiruma muttered, the group turned around to look at him. He had given up standing and had decided to crouch to polish a gun. The security guards were eyeing him. "He said he wanted to come back and fight all of us."

Shin nodded. "I remember Sena-kun saying that."

"Yeah well, he's not here." No one said anything to Sakuraba about pointing out the obvious, but Akaba glanced at him over his glass.

"Che," Hiruma stood up and stalked his way over to the airline counter and not-so-subtly dropped his gun on the plastic. A security guard walked over, but the group noticed the paling of the guard and stewardess even if they missed the brandishing of the black notebook. The guard still stood there, most likely for appearances, but woman started typing rapidly on the keys. She said something to Hiruma, who obviously didn't like it for he threw himself over the counter to look at the computer screen himself.

Hiruma's actions had spurned the other into doing something as well, namely calling Sena's phone. He hadn't answered in a month, hadn't answered earlier today, so Mamori didn't understand why having a handful of amefuto players all call now to the same phone was going to make a difference. She called Kobayakawa-san instead, but Sena's mom did pick up either. The couple had left for America for a mini vacation a month before to explore the country before spending time with Sena, but surely they had all planned on flying back on the same flight?

It was the look on Hiruma's face when he headed back towards them that had them all dropping ending their calls. He looked as if he was facing a team who's plays he not only couldn't come up with a counter for, but couldn't identify.

"Hiruma-kun?" Mamori asked.

"They didn't get on the plane."

Everyone frowned. "What do you mean -" Sakuraba began.

"I mean, Sena and his parents didn't get on the plane in the USA. They canceled the flight about a week ago, switched the tickets to an open end date."

"He must have found stronger opponents than us." Shin decided. He turned to his teammate. "We must increase our training."

"Ye-es!" Sakuraba agreed.

Mamori shared a look with Yukimitsu, and she could see hints of a similar thought in the faces Yamato and Musashi. But she didn't ask Hiruma about it, about why if Sena wanted to stay, his parents would too after not making the move earlier, about the Kobayakawa-sans' plans. She didn't want to crush hope of Sena coming back soon. After all, if there was a 1% chance it would happen, it would.

She didn't want to hear proof that chance was zero.

"If we leave now," she ventured, "We can catch the end of the Enma game. It's the first college game for Riku and Monta, isn't it?"

Hiruma gave her a look, as if he knew what she was doing. Never mind that Sena was supposed to have been back earlier enough to play in the second half.

"Yeah," Akaba sang. He was flat.

* * *

Another month had past and still no communication from Sena. Many people took it as a sign the running back wasn't returning to Japan, that he had moved on and his family had gone with him. But Monta knew they hadn't moved, the Kobayakawa residence wasn't empty. No moving vans had come. And while the silence from his friend bugged him constantly, he still played the good neighbor and looked after the house when he had time.

But still, there were days he would go without thinking about Sena. Even with Riku on the team as a reminder. Monta always hated himself a little bit after that. And then hated Sena. Why couldn't he call his best friend? Or even send out an e-mail?

As if on cue, his phone rang with his little e-mail specific song. Hopeful, he flipped it open. Right away he noticed the kanji for 'Sena'. Eagerly he moved his thumb over to open it, but pause to read the notification more carefully.

It wasn't from Sena, but Taki (who had decided to forget about amefuto when he was approached by a dance company, but the idiot still kept in touch), and the subject line read _Why didn't anyone tell me Sena was injured?_

Monta paused, the words 'Sena' and 'injured' bouncing around in his head. He had hadn't heard of any such thing, and something as important as that would have been heard! Taki was probably just making this up, scaring him. His thumb hovered over the 'open' command and suddenly Monta found himself afraid to open the e-mail.

"Monta-kun?"

The received jumped and the sound of Unsui calling his name, his finger hitting the phone and opening the e-mail. It was just a link.

"Heh-heh, Unsui-san!"

"Is everything alright? You aren't usually so still." the quarterback asked.

"Yeah, just checking my e-mail."

"Well, just make sure you change in time for practice."

Monta nodded, attention back on his phone as he clicked the link. It took him to an article on a American amefuto website. His English wasn't very good, but he thought he could make out 'Notre Dame' in the headline.

"What are you looking at Monta?" Riku asked, coming up behind him.

"And article Taki sent me, but my English isn't very good."

The blonde slipped the phone out of Monta's hand (only cuz the receiver let him), and began reading it aloud. "The Notre Dame football sho…" He trailed off, and Monta fear spiked.

"Riku?"

His teammate looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Maybe I should read this in the club house, so everyone can hear."

Monta snatched his phone back, but the symbols were as unreadable as ever. "Yeah, maybe you should."

Once in the locker room, Riku and Monta jumped on to one of the benches that ran in front of the lockers.

"Listen up max you guys!" Monta shouted. "Taki just sent me an e-mail about Sena. But it's in English so Riku's gonna read it all too us, okay?" He hand his phone back over to the runner.

"Sena's coming home?" Kurita asked from the back of the locker room. On of the other players tapped him in the shoulder. "Sh," and the line backer went silent. The looks on Monta's and Riku's faces were giving the team the idea that it wasn't good news about Sena.

Riku cleared his throat and began to read from the phone screen:

"_The Notre Dame Shooting: Two Months Later_

"_It's been two months since the Notre Dame versus Purdue game where a sniper fired onto the field and injured Notre Dame running back Sena Kobayakawa. Kobayakawa had just passed Purdue's Kant on the field when he was shot three times, once in the knee, once in the lower back, and once in the shoulder. Kobayakawa was rushed to the local hospital, but slipped into a coma. We never found out why he was shot, as the sniper fell off the top stand he was shooting from and fell to his death. _

"_Kobayakawa was an exchange student from Japan, and upon learning of his injury his parents flew to the states to be by his side. Unwilling to remove their son from the care he was receiving here in the States, the running back has remained in Indiana for the past two months. _

"_Now it seems the family is finally going home. Earlier this week, Kobayakawa woke from his coma, much to the joy of his family and teammates here at Notre Dame. But it is not all happy endings for this family, Kobayakawa's football career is over. Dr. Davis, who had been in charge of the running back, informed the press that Kobayakawa's lower body had been paralyzed by the second bullet. _

"'_He'll be lucky to walk,' Davis said, 'and even that is questionable at the moment. The days of Sena being the fastest on the football field is over. It's quite sad, the kid had talent.' _

"_The Kobayakawas refused to answer any questions, but Dr. Davis did inform us that Kobayakawa is due to start physical therapy in Japan later this month._

"That's, that's all it says." Riku trailed off, the hand with the phone dropping as if the device suddenly weighed a ton. Monta grabbed it before it slipped out of Riku's fingers and proceeded to forward it to every amefuto contact in his phone. The soft sound of clicking keys was the only noise in the locker room.

Not everyone on the Enma team personally knew Sena, of course not, but they all knew of him at least. Knew he had been on the roster, still was in fact, but never the game ones. It was a hard blow.

"I think practice is canceled for today," Unsui said, "Actually, I'm pretty sure it is. I'll see you guys tomorrow." He walked out of the club house shirtless, forgetting the uniform he had been changing out of on the bench.

* * *

It was the manager's shout of 'no!' that halted practice. Not that is was a shout really, it was softer than that, but there was really horror behind it that made it carry and forced her drop to her knees.

"Fucking manager! Stop being so weak!" Hiruma called.

Akaba, who was closer to her, shot the blonde a dirty look. Hiruma gave him a devil's look right back and then returned his attention to the Saikyoudai manager. She was rubbing her eyes with the side of her hand. Che, she was crying.

Hiruma marched toward her, and coming closer he could see she was trying not to cry. Her phone was in her hand.

"It's Sena," she said when he was just a meter from the out of bounds line. She made sure her voice carried, wobbly as it was.

"Really? It's about time we heard from the fucking shrimp."

Mamori shook her head. "Monta e-mailed me an American news article. Two months ago, someone shot Sena during a game."

Half the team rushed towards the sidelines to hear better, Hiruma snatched Mamori's phone from her and started reading the article while the manager summarized it for the rest of the team.

"He was in a coma till recently, and the doctors say he'll be lucky to walk."

"Which means he can't run." Akaba said. He turned to Yamato. "That would make you the new Eyeshield 21, would it not?"

The runner shook his head. "It's always something that's been earned on the field. Sena-kun has never been beaten in running, he still carries that title."

"Fuck that," Agon growled. "If a king dies, his title gets passed to the next in line. Which would be me."

"Such a disharmonious statement." Akaba said.

Agon made to lunge at the other player, but Hiruma foresaw the action and set a round of bullets his way. The dreadlocked player glared.

"All you fast guys can figure it out on the field later this season, right now you're not doing anything but blowing hot air." Hiruma handed Mamori back her phone. "See if you can figure out when he'll be back before the end of practice."

She nodded and got to her feet. Everyone was still staring at her. "Shoo!" Mamori made a sweeping motion with her hands. "You've got a game later this week, so get practicing."

Mamori didn't have an answer by the end of practice, but she was on the phone with someone in the club house. Most of the team sent curious, wondering looks her way when the left, but a few stayed behind, lingering. They didn't hide the fact they were waiting for Mamori's answer. Hiruma would look up at her every so often from his laptop, Akaba was moving his fingers to form chords on his guitar – but not playing, Yamato was reading the article himself on his own phone, and Juumonji was eyeing Mamori like a hawk while tossing a football between his hands.

When Mamori sighed they all stopped what they were doing to watch her shut her phone.

"I got through to Sena's mom. They're in an American airport right now, they'll be landing late tomorrow morning."

Juumonji slapped the football against his palm. "We're going to see him right?"

"Oh course fucking scar-face," Hiruma snapped at him. "He owes us for not showing up the last time."

"I'm inviting some others too," Mamori said, looking up from her phone. "If we all meet somewhere, we can leave together."

"Who are you inviting?" Yamato asked.

"Kurita-kun, Monta-kun, Riku-kun, Shin-san, who'll probably bring Sakuraba-san, do you think Musashi would like to come Hiruma-kun?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it though, I already sent him an e-mail."

* * *

They met at the train station, all smiles and laughs. It was so good to know Sena was coming home. They talked about the possible adventures he had in America, the possibility of new techniques he developed, the games he won. The fact that such things were now impossible, the fact Sena was injured, was carefully avoided.

But it became impossible to at least not think about while they waited at Narita airport. They all fell silent eventually.

They saw the Kobayakawas first, or rather Mamori saw them. No one else knew what Sena's parents looked like. "Kobayakawa-san!" she called out, waving her arm in the air cheerfully.

The couple both looked at her, harried but still glad to see a friendly face. The matron leaned down, dropping from sight, but then stood straight at began walking towards the large group of amefuto players. It was obvious Sena's dad was pushing something.

It was Sena. They knew he couldn't walk, the article has said as such, but they hadn't really understood what that meant for day to day living. Just that he could no longer play amefuto. But here he was, in a wheelchair, and suddenly Mamori realized he wouldn't even _be able to get into bed_ because his room was on the second story. Where would he sleep, the couch? And how would he get to school? Was he even going to school? He might have taken the Enma exam while abroad, but he hadn't registered for anything. And what if he had classes on the second floor? Saikyoudai had an elevator, did Enma?

It still hurt too much to think of Sena never again running on the field. And if Mamori was wounded by the thought, Sena must be dying from it.

"Oh Sena," she breathed, the first one talk. And Sena, who looked so drawn out with his pale skin, skinny body (what happened to all that muscle he use to have), and tired eyes, still had the power to flash her a smile and look as if he hadn't been flying for sixteen hours and had learned the life he had spent years striving for had crumbled.

"Hey Mamo-neechan. You grew out your hair."

She sniffed once, increased the strength on her squeeze, and then pulled back, eyes dry. She'd cry later. "You too, Sena." She fingered a lock.

"I'm gonna get it cut soon."

"I think it looks good," Juumonji ventured and suddenly every one was in motion.

"Here, let me relieve you of your burden," Shin said to Sena's dad, taking control of the wheelchair and pushing it towards the luggage carousel.

Things seemed to snap into place. Akaba and Yamato went on ahead to scout out which carousel the bags would be coming on, Riku and Monta took possession of Sena's right side, Juumonji looking over their heads, Hiruma took the left besides Mamori, Kurita smiling behind him, while Sakuraba walked next to Shin. Musashi walked behind the entire ensemble, and behind them all walked the quite Kobayakawas, faint smiles on their faces.

"Tell us about the Americans!" Monta chatted. "You beat them all, right?"

Sena laughed. "Not quite. Panther-kun has longer arms then me and tackled me more often than not. But I managed to match speed with him." No one drew attention the tightness that seemed to engulf the running back at the statement, but there was a beat of silence until Hiruma popped his gum bubble.

"Was everyone in America as big as those we versed in the World Cup?" Sakuraba asked, moving on to more neutral territory. Sena tilted his head back to look at the blonde.

"No, but many of the amefuto players were. Most of the students were average, if a bit more solid that those here. I wasn't the shortest one there though. There was an other exchange student, from India, who was a centimeter shorter than me."

Hiruma popped another bubble. "Really? I find it hard to believe there is someone in this world shorter than you shrimp."

Mamori slightly slapped him in the arm and he gave her a dry look. "Sena grew the entire time he was in Deimon, and I'm sure he grew in America too! Didn't you Sena?" she turned to face him.

"Hehe, maybe? I didn't check."

Akaba waved at them from the fourth carousel and the group made their way over, the Kobayakawas speeding up and passing the group in order to identify their luggage. Shin pushed Sena's wheelchair towards an empty row of seats, which were quickly occupied.

"But what about you guys?" Sena looked towards the group members in his year, Juumonji, Riku, and Monta. "What university are you attending?"

"Enma," Riku and Monta said at the same time, but the latter puffed out his chest as he said it.

"Ah, then you get to play with Kurita-san!"

"Now that Riku-kun and Monta-kun are on the team, we're sure to beat Saikyoudai and play Musashi in the Rice Bowl!" Kurita's eyes blazed.

Shin made a voice in the back of his throat. "Oujou will have that honor."

"Hmf, we went last year, and we will again," Mamori declared.

"Kekeke, of course!"

Sena hunched away from Hiruma. Musashi said nothing, just stood there with his arms crossed as if he were over looking a group of small children.

"Well, now that Sena's back we'll…" Monta trailed off, horrified and ashamed by what he was saying.

But Sena just smiled on of those tense smiles, and agreed. "Yes, I was hoping I could be manager for Enma's team and develop plays to stop Hiruma-san."

"No way you could beat me at trick plays, fucking shrimp. But I have to ask, what are your odds?"

"Odds?" Sakuraba asked. Riku just shrugged with the receiver looked at him. Sena looked down at his hands.

"Because if there's even a .1 percent chance, that's enough right?" The brunette smoothed the cloth over his thighs. "That I'll walk? 30. That I'll run? 2. But that I'll run like I could before, that I'll be able to play amefuto? I asked, Hiruma-san, if I had that .1 percent chance. They said no."

The pain on Sena's face was stark, and if it belonged to younger Sena, or if they were alone, Mamori would have thrown her arms around him and cried. But she hadn't been prone to such actions or a desire to protect for over two years now, and she knew it would embarrasses Sena if she didn't amongst all these people who considered him a man on equal grounds. Men who all wore a look of pain to some degree.

Juumonji's hand shot out and ruffled Sena's hair, causing the small male to look up at him. "We've won against low odds before right?"

Sena's mouth twitched. "Yes, that's true." But rarely had been an issue of what they were physically capable of doing; it had always revolved around willpower and the desire to win. So it was okay to pretend that would work this time too.

* * *

**A/N:** It seems like all that time I spent reading this series has gone into writing for it. Seriously. I was up till four am on Tuesday writing this and finished it halfway through Wednesday. I really should have been doing other things though T.T My poor grades. I don't even know what this essay on Tuesday is about! Something about Jews during the Holocaust... *headdesk*

I would love to learn I didn't through my grades away for nothing, so reviews would be very much appreciated. I'll even give you brow~nie!


	2. Chapter 2

Beating the Odds

_By Uniasus_

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Sena was hanging out in the family kitchen. There wasn't much else he could do. His father had a study on the bottom floor, where he had slept last night, and now that they were back in Japan it was decided that it would become Sena's new room. Because he couldn't walk up the stairs to his old one.

And now, here he was, watching his parents shuffle things out of the office into the living room in preparation for moving Sena's things downstairs. He stayed in the kitchen, because it was the one place where his parents weren't travelling to, the only place where he wasn't in the way. He couldn't even help transfer boxes of paperwork, because he wasn't able to lift a box on to or off of his lap. And from this height, he couldn't even reach the counters to make lunch for his parents.

The doorbell rang. Sena looked up from the pages of Amefuto Monthly and watched his mother walk over to door. "Monta-kun!" he heard her exclaim. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Sorry for the intrusion. Is Sena-kun home?"

Sana dog-eared his page, rolled up the magazine, and stuck it in the pouch hanging from the right armrest. He pushed up his sleeves and rolled his wheelchair out into the hallway. Halfway to the door, he stopped. The space between the boxes in his way wasn't wide enough for his wheelchair to pass through.

"Sena!" his friend greeted.

"Hey Monta, don't you have class?"

"Nah, I always have Wednesday's free. Still have practice later though."

Sena nodded.

"So, I figured we could hang out or something."

"What a wonderful idea!" his mom said. "Don't you think so Sena? Come one, get over here, oh." She seemed to realize he couldn't travel any farther. "Sorry about that Sena." She set to work moving a box over. "I'll get your father."

Sena watched her head back towards the office, and then turned back to his friend. Monta was looking about the front room curiously. "What are you guys doing?"

"Moving my bedroom downstairs."

"…oh."

"Hello there, Monta-kun," Kobayakawa said as he came up behind his son.

"Hello Kobayakawa-san," Monta gave a bow.

"Do you mind helping me carry Sena down?"

The receiver blinked in confusion, so Sena filled him in. "There are steps leading up to the door. We're getting a ramp installed in a couple of days."

"Oh, right. How can I help?"

"If we each take one the arm rests, we can lift Sena to the sidewalk."

"Okay." Monta took one of the left side and placed his hands under the armrest. "Lift max!" He lifted higher than Kobayakawa and Sena pitched to the side. "Oops, sorry!" Monta dropped his side, but Kobayakawa didn't, and Sena pitched to the other side. Monta stopped him from falling out as the other side lowered. "You alright Sena?"

He was a bit harried, but smiled anyway. "No harm done."

"How about we try again," Kobayakawa suggested, and Monta nodded. "One, two, three."

The wheelchair wobbled, but for the most part stayed even and together the two men lowered Sena to the ground. "Arigato," he murmured, angry and yet defeated at the idea he couldn't leave his own house without help.

"Don't worry about it," Monta rubbed a finger under his nose and Sena's father just softly smiled. "Call when you're on your way home." Sena nodded.

Monta made a movement to get behind the wheelchair to push, but Sena quickly pushed on his wheels to move himself. "Mind getting the gate Monta?"

"No problem," he ran to get there first.

They ended getting cups of ramen to go, the noodles cooking on Sena's lap while Monta pushed him to a spot along the dyke Diemon used to train along. Sena's arms were weak form disuse, and before long it became hard for him to self propel his wheelchair. Monta had picked up the slack without saying anything.

In a spot devoid of people, Monta stopped and parked Sena next to a bench before sitting down.

"Here," Sena handed him the noodle cup and then pulled a pair of chopsticks out of the wheelchair's pouch to hand over as well.

"Thanks."

"So tell me," Sena began, opening the paper his chopsticks were in, "How's Enma's team doing?"

Monta blew on his ramen before answering. "Okay I guess. We have a good offence. There's a couple of good receivers, but not as good as me, and Riku-kun is pretty good too. Ishimaru-kun's gotten faster, but you still miss him half the time. Unsui-san's a pretty good quarterback. He doesn't have as many tricks as Hiruma-san, but he's hard to knock down. And Kurita is even more powerful then he was at Diemon! But the rest of the line aren't as good. I mean, they're average, about as good as Juumonji-kun. We've won all our games so far though." Monta picked up a bunch of noodles.

"Have you versed Oujou or Saikyoudai yet?"

Monta finished the noodle bunch before answering. "We play Oujou on Friday, and Saikyoudai next week. But we beat Shuuei Medical University. That was a tough game. Yukimitsu-kun plays for them you know."

"Really? I always thought he would have gone to Saikyoudai."

"Yeah, me too. And I certainly didn't expect Juumonji-kun to go there."

"Wah! Really?"

"Yeah, since we couldn't play amefuto last semester he spent a lot of time studying and got in."

"Impressive."

"Yup, we were all kinda shocked."

They lapsed into silence, eating their ramen and watching a family of ducks drift by with the current.

"Sena," Monta said, not turning to look at his friend.

"Hmm?" the brunette said around a mouth of noodles.

"Are you okay?"

There was the sound of a hasty swallow. "Yeah, today's a good day."

"That's not what I meant Sena."

"Yeah," he started poking the bottom of the ramen cup with a chopstick.

"Sena," Monta scooted a bit closer, "We're best friends, you can tell me anything." Sena's poking turned into stabs. "Sena?"

Sena launched the ramen cup towards the river. It didn't make it, the container was too light, but it was a good toss. They had started practicing throws as a pair after the game against the Dinosaurs. Sena was much better than Monta. He fisted the fabric on his legs and stared hard at the back of his hands.

"I was so close Monta, so close. The training over there in America was a lot tougher than here. I managed to clock the 40 yard dash in four point oh nine the day before that game. And there were scouts from the NFL who said that if my team made it to the Rice Bowl, they'd come and see me play. But I already was talking to coaches about going back to America when I was done with school."

He's eyes were stinging. "But I, I can't do that now, and it hurts! It's not like when we versed the USA in the World Cup, when I first found out Panther was faster than me, cuz I could still fight. But now, now I can't even leave my own house without help!"

The tears were falling now, leaving splotches on his hands. Monta kept staring at the ramen cup on the sidewalk.

"I didn't have _anything_ before amefuto Monta. You had a dream to be the best catcher ever before you joined the team, but all I was concerned about was not getting beat up. Amefuto...changed that. And I worked so hard! And, and, I don't even know why that guy shot me!"

Sena's eyes were screwed tightly shut, his shoulders hunched as his tears turned into full fledged crying. "I don't even remember it, I had just passed the other player and I remember stumbling, but I kept going…I don't remember falling, but Rick said I just dropped. I just woke up in the hospital and realized I couldn't feel my legs."

He slouched forward, hands rising to catch his head, saline slipping silently between his fingers to darken his pants. Monta reached over to give him a swift one armed hug and then pulled back to let Sena cry uninterrupted. He gave the surrounding area a quick look, making sure his buddy could have a bit of peace, and noticed Shin jogging along the top of the hill. The linebacker was moving slower than normal, but sped up when Monta shook his head. Sena didn't need an audience. Shin never even turned to look at them.

When Sena's tears started drying up, the brunette leaned back into his wheelchair and tried to dry his face with his hands. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," Monta chastised, turning his attention from the ramen cup to Sena. "You needed to do that."

"Yeah."

"So, you just have to have a new amefuto goal now."

"Monta, what part of 'I can't _walk_' do you not understand?"

"Well, there's a goal right there. To walk again. But now since you can't practice with the rest of the team, you can study strategy! Didn't you say that at the airport?"

Sena gave the receiver a watery smile. "Hiruma-san's really good at plays."

"Doesn't mean you can't beat him, right?"

"Right."

* * *

"Shin-san! Please, come in." Sena backed up out of the doorway and the Oujou linebacker stepped through. "Sorry about the mess, we're getting some work down to the house."

"I can see that." There was a box of tools on the floor down the hallway and more obvious were the two men working on taking down the wall at the end of it.

"We're adding an additional room," Sena offered as an explanation. It was actually expanding the small half bathroom that had resided on the first floor, but now that Sena wasn't able to use the one upstairs his parents were having one he could use installed, complete with wheelchair accessibility involved. A low sink and cabinets, a shower with a seat and handle bar, and another handle bar by the toilet. He hated having his dad help him with basic sanitary needs.

"Can I offer you something to eat or drink?" Sena asked Shin.

The taller player shook his head. "Thank you, but I am not in need of anything."

"Okay. Please, have a seat." Sena gestured towards couch. The table in front of it was covered in papers, all showing amefuto plays. He quickly tried to gather them all up while Shin settled himself. "Sorry about the mess," he apologized again.

"Are you devising a strategy against Saikyoudai?"

Sena nodded. "I know a lot of Hiruma-san's plays and tricks from when we played at Deimon together, so I'm hoping to help the team out from the bench when we play them later this week."

"Enma used a couple of trick plays against us last week, did you have them do that?"

"Yeah well, not being on the field gives me a completely different perspective, so I suggest things when I think they need help."

"You did a good job Sena-kun."

A faint blush grew across the brunette's face, but it quickly disappeared. "Since I can't help the team on the field, I might as well be useful some other way."

Shin didn't say anything, just gave him a bland look. "I brought you a gift."

"Ano, you didn't have too."

"It's okay, I don't use them anymore."

The linebacker dug into his sports bag and withdrew a set of barbells.

"Weights, Shin-san?"

Shin nodded. "For your arms. You'll need a lot of strength to push your wheelchair every day. And there are track and field events for those who use wheelchairs. If your arms are strong enough, you could race."

Sena reached out for a medium sized weight and lifted it. After being able to bench press 55kg, it was rather pitiful how much trouble it gave him. Shin covered his hand with his larger one and guided Sena in putting it back on the table. "You haven't used your arms in months, so you have to start from the beginning again." Sean nodded, willing his eyes to not be watery.

"Thank you Shin-san. I'll use them every day."

Shin pulled out a piece of paper from his bag as well. "Not every day. I have a schedule here for you follow."

Sena gave the linebacker a smile. "You think of everything don't you? Thank you, again."

* * *

Yamato and Riku weren't an even match, their battles on the field leaned 60/40 towards the Saikyoudai player. Monta was faring better against Ikkyuu, but both were still giving it their all. But the other team had two good receivers, and with Monta covering the former Naga player, Taka was wide open. And as good as Mizumachi and Kurita were, they were no match for the combined efforts of Banba, Juumonji, and Agon. Sena also suspected that Kurita was holding back a little; he was doing wonderfully when Enma was on the offensive, but when playing defense he just held the line instead of breaking through. It most likely had to do with some left over sentiment of protecting Hiruma who was now the opposing quarterback.

There was no question about it, Enma was a better team than Deimon had been, but their opponents had also increased in strength. Instead of having players distributed amongst four higher class teams in the league (Wild Gunmen, White Knights, Alexanders, Dinosaurs), the college pool had shrunk to two high ranked teams, Oujou and Saikyoudai, with Enma and Shuuei filling in the upper tiers of the middle ranks. Granted, there were players from high school who were longer playing (Sena found it rather funny Karin-chan was doing an amefuto manga) or were playing in the X-League (but all the ones he knew were on the same team, the one Musashi founded, which made it easy to decided what team to cheer for). But overall, the college league was much harder than the high school league.

However, being friends with people on most teams didn't affect Sena's ability to choose a team to root for. Enma all the way!

"Yay! Go Riku!" Sena shouted from the sidelines. Suzuna (who while not an Enma student still managed to cheer for them) jumped in the air with the other cheerleaders, pom-poms waving, in celebration of Riku getting around Yamato. The runner shifted posture, leaning forward, and took off at a sprint. Two seconds later he was flattened by Agon, who had come at him from behind at an angle for a killer tackle Riku hadn't been able to see. Sena winced. Agon's tackles _hurt_. But Gaou's were more forceful. He hadn't realized it till after the Fall Tournament, but the Dinosaur player had managed to fracture one of his ribs in the game.

Sena was still too new at reading opponent's plays and coming up with counter measures to be really effective, but he had managed to convince an Enma student to film the game from up in the bleachers to study for the next season and his familiarity with Hiruma's strategy allowed him to know what trap the quarterback was setting. He wasn't very good at picking out when the trap would spring, but he was at least able to inform Unsui about blonde's most likely long term goals. After all, Mamori never got the final say as a manager (true, Hiruma was better than her at plays), the quarterback was the ultimate control tower and it was Sena's job to give him as much information as he could. Next season, for the Fall Tournament that would lead to the Rice Bowl, Sena would be better.

As it was, Enma lost by 9.

One of the linemen, Kurosawa-kun, whom Sena hadn't known before meeting the Enma team, forcibly ripped his helmet from his head and threw it to the ground. He was new to the game, he had wrestled in high school instead. It was the most forceful display of anger at the lost. The rest of the team simply took a good hard look at the clock and the dejectedly turned towards the locker room.

"What do you all look so grumpy for?" Sena demanded as they filtered past him.

"Um, Sena-kun? We lost."

"This game yes, but winning this game wasn't our goal."

"No?" Monta and Riku shared a look that clearly stated they thought he was crazy.

"You're right!" Kurita spoke up, fire in his eyes. "It's the Rice Bowl! The Fall season! Everyone, we must begin practicing tomorrow for our goal!"

* * *

"Sena-kun!" Sean stopped rolling as both him and his mom turned to look behind them at the call.

"Yukimitsu-san!" He turned his wheelchair around and made his way over to the other student, waving with one hand in between a wheel push. His mom followed a step or two behind. "How are your studies?"

Yukimitsu shrugged. "It's like high school all over again, study study study with amefuto stuffed into every free moment. At least I no longer go to cram school, instead I work in one of the clinics here."

"Oh?"

"Well, really just secretary work, I don't know enough to actually interact with patients yet, but next semester I get to start helping the doctors."

"Maybe we'll see each other then."

"You'll be coming to Shuuei often?"

Sena nodded, "I'm doing my physical therapy here. I just had my first session today."

"I look forward to seeing more of you then. It was good seeing you Sena-kun, but I have someplace to be –ah! Before I forget," Yukimitsu dug into his bag and pulled out a pale yellow brochure. "I was going to come by your house this weekend anyway, but since you're here now." He handed it over.

_Wheelchair Athletic League_ the front of it read. "Shuuni sponsors it, and I think there's a few things in there that you'd like. Bye, Sena-kun!" Yukimitsu took off at a light job.

"Bye Yukimitsu-san! Thank you!"

The other guy didn't turn around, but Sena knew he heard him.

"What is it?" his mom asked.

"A way for me to play sports."

* * *

**A/N:** I know the manga reports 4.2 for the 40yd dash to be the human limit, but here has been a NFL playerer who reportedly clocked a 4.09. (Greene, if I remember right) And if you do crazy math and factor in the different distances and means of keeping score, the fastest 100m dash ever (which was actually done during a 400m relay) had a 40 yd time of 3.94. (I think. My ES 21 note sheet has disappeared on me.)

I'm surprised this fic is getting written so quickly, but I do usually keep the file open and so when I'm bored in class my thoughts naturally stray to writing that next sentence.

Remember, reviews are loved!


	3. Chapter 3

Beating the Odds

By Uniasus

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Physical therapy was hard. It took effort just to stand, and it wasn't uncommon for him to leave a session having not succeeded in a single thing. Most of the time he didn't do much any ways, the therapist manipulated his legs instead. Sessions left him frustrated, and more often than not, feeling helpless and hopeless. He was glad Yukimitsu or Takami were never there. Just having his parents and doctors he didn't know witness his failure was enough.

Strengthening his arms was more successful. The results were easy to see, his arms would hurt less and less as time got by. He could push himself farther, faster, for longer periods of time. And he could do more things around the house, get into bed or the shower without help. Sena has also started doing sit ups. He'd get out of his chair, lock it, use his arms to throw his stick legs into the seat, and then started working his abs.

All this of course, allowed him to feel okay about falling. Everyone else was rather appalled by the bruises.

Physical therapy was all well and good, but it didn't happen nearly as often as Sena wanted. So he spent hours every day doing what he could in his bedroom. At first it was just learning how to stand. Or to be more precise, getting to his feet. He kept falling over every time he tried to get out of his wheelchair by himself; sideways, forwards, on to the floor, or into a piece of furniture. His parents used to come running into his room at every thump, but now it was a common occurrence and they only checked in on him after an hour of thumps to get him to stop for awhile and patch up anything that needed it.

Sena remembered all the looks he'd gotten at school one day at his first at home treatment. He had gotten a black-eye from hitting his face on his wheelchair while trying to get back in it, and the bruises that had blossomed on his chest and back, not to mention his arms, were evident around the outline of his t-shirt. Riku had been furious. "Now that you can't run from bullies they think it's okay to go and do this!" The entire Enma football had been ready to kill the whole school if they had to, as were the players from other teams he knew when they saw him. Sena was quick to reassure them that wasn't the case. And now he was much better at falling, knowing where to land on his body to minimize bruising and all that abs and arm training meant his wheelchair didn't attack him anymore. Just the floor. And his bed too sometimes.

* * *

Sena hadn't wanted to practice in front of people he knew from amefuto, so he did it away from Enma, away from Deimon. Instead, he went to the middle school two streets over. They didn't have a real track, just a ring of asphalt, but that was enough for him. When he didn't have classes, or on weekends when he knew the Enma was out doing a long distance run, he'd go to the school and…roll.

He'd say run, but, it didn't really apply any more. Maybe 'push' was better.

The Wheelchair Athletic League wasn't much, just a collection of the patients at Shuuie who wanted to do something active. They would meet up and play pickup games of basketball or Frisbee, with the rules adjusted for being in wheelchairs. He had never gone to them, the game times were always when Enma had a game or practice (Sena felt compelled to go to amefuto practice, it was time devoted solely to strategy and was an excuse to hang out with his friends). But in six weeks, there was a Track and Field tournament being held.

Shot-put, javelin throw, discus. They were strange words and ideas to him, but Sena figured he'd try them just for fun. It was only a small event, meant for fun anyway. Still, when he saw there was a sprinting event, a 60 meter race, Sena's blood starting pumping.

It wasn't running, far from it, but it was the closest he could get. And he had to admit, it was nice to feel the wind blowing past him. His helmet and eyeshield had never really let him feel how fast he was going, he could just tell from the sight of things around him blurring as he past them and the retreating breath of his opponents. Pushing/rolling his wheelchair allowed him to feel the wind on his face and gave him an unhampered view of the track. It was also rather nice to not have to worry about the potential of getting tackled. Really, why hadn't he helped out the track team at some point in high school? Ishimaru certainly helped out the amefuto team often enough.

And that's where Hiruma found him one early Sunday evening. Sena had pushed himself twice around the track as hard as he could and then pulled out a water bottle from his side pouch. He tilted his head back to guzzle a quarter of it. The action forced his gaze to the top of the hill on the track's west side, where Hiruma stood looking down on him. Sena choked on his water in surprise.

"Hiruma-san!"

The blonde strolled down the hill, hands in his pocket and a gum bubble expanding from his lips. "What are you doing shrimp?"

"Ano, training?"

"For what?"

"A race?"

"What, you're not even sure what you're doing?" Hiruma came to stand in front of him and Sena looked sheepishly up at him.

"I'm sure. I'm training for a race."

Hiruma snapped a bubble, and Sena pulled out the flyer from the Wheelchair Athletic League for him to read while he continued to drink his water and control his breathing.

"Che," the quarterback deposited the paper back into the wheelchair pouch. "Why?"

Sena blinked at him. "What?"

"Why do you want to race at that thing?"

"It, seems like it would be fun. And…it's the closest to running I can get."

Hiruma gave one of his pointed grins and shot him a look that reminded Sena of the times the quarterback had gotten a sudden insight into the opponent while playing a game. "Good, we were getting worried."

Sena frowned. "Who, and why?"

"You don't honestly think you can beat me in strategy, can you?"

"Watch me!"

The blonde gave a toothy grin again, but then sheathed his teeth. "But it's not as fun as running and playing, is it?"

Sena looked at his water bottle and took a sip before answering. "No."

"We've all kinda noticed that. But this, this track thing, you want to win it, right? No matter what?"

"Why else would I be out here right now Hiruma-san?"

"Kekekeke," Hiruma threw his head back and laughed. "Just making sure shrimp. You know we'd all help you as much as we can."

"Yeah, but I kinda wanted to do it by myself."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I learned all those running techniques pretty much by myself. Why shouldn't this be the same? And, I also need to know that I _can_ do something on my own. There's a lot I haven't been able to lately."

Hiruma bent at the hip so they could see eye to eye. "I heard you ran the 40 yard dash in four point oh nine seconds. Think you can roll that fast?"

Sena wanted to ask how Hiruma knew that, but it didn't really matter. "The record for the sprint is six point nine two, so most likely not. Besides, the record isn't my goal, it's winning in July."

The blonde pulled back, laughing under his breath. "Do you know what your chances are?"

Sena frowned. "No. Registration hasn't started yet. And I don't know anyone else in a wheelchair. I mean, they obviously exist, but I haven't meet them or know what their abilities are."

"Eh, just train like you're going against that record holder."

"That's what I've been doing."

"Keke. Even if you don't want our help, you don't mind us coming to watch, do you?"

"Of course not. I was going to invite you all anyway."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the short chapter, but the part I'm working on is fairly large, and thus I'm deciding to give it it's own chapter. I've also had to do a lot of research for it. I have no idea how wheelchair track and field events are done. .

Also, brainstorming for this fic has resulted in...interesting relationships. As in, this will become an angsty romance piece later on. Oh you poor poor characters.


	4. Chapter 4

Beating the Odds

_By Uniasus_

**Chapter 4**

* * *

The day seemed hotter than when the Devilbats played the Sphinx, if that was possible. Sena's shirt was heavy on his upper body, weighted with humidity and the sweat from the hot car ride. His legs were even worse, covered as they were in a pair of light weight track pants. At least he wore the white pair.

He was the only one at Shuuei not wearing shorts, but he was willing to bear their burden in the weather. It hurt to look at his legs. They were just fleshy sticks, lacking in muscle and strength, with a scar on his right knee. They mocked him. But here, all the other wheelchair athletes seemed to show off their legs. If they had them. Sena didn't realize how lucky he was till now. Being able to use both arms and his torso meant he was one of the most functional athletes, a T-54 and a F-55 for track and field classifications. There were others who couldn't properly use any of their limbs.

But it was heartening, they were still here. They weren't willing to give up. The thought made him smile. Really, he should have made an effort meet some of them before hand.

Sena's parents had to work, so they weren't able to get him to the medical center in time for registration. So his teammates took him. It had been cramped in the back with Kurita, Riku, Ishimaru, and Monta. Unsui drove, Agon in the passenger seat because he had nothing better to do that day.

"Anyone see the registration tent?" Sena asked, looking around. The field was reminiscent of a school fair, lots of tents with colorful flags streaming. There were tables set up at a variety of location around the field, most likely for events to occur later that day.

"No," Unsui answered, looking down the single row of tents with his hand over his eyes to block the sun.

"Well, let's max search!" Monta declared, fist pumping into the air.

Agon made a throaty noise and then spat to the side. Unsui gave him a look, but his twin didn't give any attention to it.

"Alright, lets go!" Kurita took off in 'search mode', moving from tent to tent, Monta behind him rolling between people's legs and wheels. Sena laughed. "So energetic!" He gave his wheels a push, heading towards the tents. Riku took up a position on his right and joined him, the Kongo brothers trailing, all moving at a more sedate pace.

"This is bigger than I expected," Sena commented.

"Really?" Riku asked.

"Yeah, I figured this would be something for fun that Shuuie put on, maybe twenty athletes, but did you see the window stickers on some of the cars in the parking lot? People came from hours away! And there's so many here! And there's still two hours before anything starts!"

"Hmm, now that we're closer it seems like a lot of the texts are exhibitions too."

Sena paused in shock, turned to look at Ishimaru on his left, and then gave another push on his wheels. "Sorry," Sena said, "I forgot about you again Ishimaru." He gave the amefuto player a sheepish smile.

Ishimaru wilted. "Don't worry, I'm used to now."

"Still, exhibition tents?" But now that they were closer, Sena could see for himself. Many of the tents were displaying sporting gear, everything from clothes to different models of wheelchairs. "I had no idea there was specialized equipment for people in wheelchairs. I mean, look at this stuff!"

"You don't have anything?" Riku asked.

"No, not really," Sena said, looking towards a tent showcasing a table of gloves. "I mean, nothing that I didn't have already from amefuto. Don't know how much I would need anything like this stuff anyway."

"Well, you ran better with spikes than in sneakers right?"

"True, but I don't think they sell wheelchairs with spiked wheels," Sena ignored Agon's noise of contemplation, "besides, I'm racing on a track, not grass."

"Looks like there are wheelchairs made for racing though," Unsui gestured towards a tent on the left. There were three wheelchairs on display, all with the outlines of an obtuse triangle as opposed to the square one Sena was using.

"Huh," Sena kept his eyes on the tent while they past it. The idea of a specialized wheelchair for racing was certainly intriguing; he'd like to check out the tent if he had the time.

"Hey Sena!" Monta appeared out of the crowd in front of him. "Kurita-san and I found the registration tent. I'll take you there."

Kurita had already started filling out his paperwork for him. "What events are you doing?"

"The 60 meter sprint, and discus."

"What's discus?" Riku asked.

"It's this one kilogram disk that you throw, and the one who throws it the farthest wins. You'd be amazing at it Kurita-san."

"Do any of the events involve catching?" Monta asked.

Sena shook his head with a smile, "Nope, sorry Monta."

"Max lame."

After registering, Sena spent the extra time before the events started hanging with his friends and exploring the expo. He had told Hiruma when the entire event was being held and then left it to the blonde to tell everyone else, but hadn't quite expected everyone who showed up to do so. Hiruma came, of course, as had Mamori, Juumonji, Akaba and Yamato from Saikyoudai. Yukimitsu and Takami were around somewhere, as Shuuei students they were working at the event. Musahsi would come later, most likely just in time to see his race. And from Oujou, Shin and Sakuraba had come to watch.

As strange as it may seem, Sena wanted to do well for Shin as well as himself. He had told Shin about wanting to train for today, and so the line backer had helped him devise a training schedule. If it wasn't for the older student, Sena wouldn't feel nearly as confident as he did and he wanted to thank Shin for all his helping. Doing well seemed to be a good way to do that.

He waved them all good bye as they headed towards the bleachers and he made his way to the flat expanse of asphalt on the other side of the track. All the athletes were grouped together by their classifications, some small and some large.

Classification were all based on the physical limits an athlete had. There were eight classifications for field events and four for track events. You only competed against other in your classification to ensure you competed against others of your level. It wasn't fair for someone with limited shoulder function to compete against someone who had full control of his entire arm. Sena could see the point in it, but personally he wouldn't mind competing against someone with better skills. That's how you improved, even if you never had a chance of winning. That's how you had fun. But in this case, Sena was at the top, one of the most physically capable athletes of the 120 who showed up.

All the field events were going to go first, going through the classifications. There was only three: shot-put, discus, and javelin, with the weight of the equipment varied depending on athlete classifications. There were a lot more track events, ranging from the ultra short sprint of 60m to the 1500m, and while at larger events Sena got the idea things were divided by gender, they weren't here. The event really was focused more on fun and activity than competition. But that was alright, Sena didn't mind. He was going to win anyway.

* * *

"Why are they in little huddles?" Monta raised a hand above his eyes to block the sun as he looked down towards the field. "And what do all those numbers mean?"

Mamori looked up from her pamphlet to see what the receiver was referring too. Spectators had been shuffled to the stands and the participates were gathering in groups around tall white signs. "They're athlete categories, depending on how much control they have over their body."

A pointy chin landed on her shoulder as Hiruma looked at the sheet in her hand. All of a sudden, there were more hands on her back and jostling heads as everyone also tried to get a look. "Geez, did none of you grab one?" Mamori reached down into the bag at her feet and pulled out several other copies to pass around. Hiruma didn't take one and just kept reading over her shoulder.

"So, what's the Shrimp?"

"F-55 for the field events and T-54 for track."

Everyone around her looked for it in their pamphlets.

"I didn't realize how lucky he was," Juumonji said, looking at the other classifications.

"He was probably running too fast to let the guy get a better shot." Agon rubbed his side from where his brother elbowed him.

"I thought Sena would have more people to race against," Riku said, looking towards the brunette. There was only fifteen people in his category, another one looked to have twice that amount of competitors.

"It doesn't matter, they would have all lost anyway."

No one said anything to contradict Yamato, they were all confident that Sena would win. Or at least give it his all. Mamori couldn't help but feel more practical. This was Sena's first time. But he had won his first football game. But not against a good opponent. Were any of his opponents good? Most of them were in a different type of wheelchair. Nervously she nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Relax, manager. Sena'll do fine. And if he doesn't win, at least he tried. But I can tell he wants to do this, more than coming up with plays, and I'm just glad that he can look like that again."

"Like what?"

"Like he's on the field," Unsui inserted himself into the conversation. Mamori turned around to look at him and Hiruma had to catch himself from falling forward as she pulled his support away. Unsui didn't look at her, he kept his eyes on the track and presumably Sena.

"They won't know what hit him," Shin said. "Skill is only half of what makes Sena dangerous. His spirit is just as strong."

"Sorry," Mamori smiled. "I guess even after all this time, I can't help be worry about him."

* * *

The disk felt surprisingly light in his hand. One kilogram really wasn't much. The set Shin had given him went up to eight and during practice with the team he could bench press twenty five. It was a far cry from his previous record, but he was getting better and that was good enough for him. But it all meant that Sena got the feeling that discus was going to be really easy.

He had signed up to do it as a whim. Athletes could enter three events and he hadn't wanted to do another track one because it might wear him out before the sprint. Nor did he want to over tax his arms with a field event, so he choose the one with the lightest thing to throw.

But really, so light!

Sena smiled, moving the disk in his hands while he waited his turn. The record to beat so far was by a girl named Ayasha Hime. She threw it sixteen and a half yards.

"Good luck!" he wished the boy in front of him, an older blonde named Hikaru Yao that Sena had befriend in the short time since the event started. Hikaru gave him a grin and pushed himself forward for his turn. He gave an impressive throw, a few centimeters past Ayasha.

And then it was his turn. Sena stopped playing with the discus and laid it to rest so he could push himself forward and roll his wheelchair into the correct spot. Feet facing the stands, his body perpendicular to the grassy range he'd be throwing the weight down, he took a deep breath. There were butterflies in his stomach now, familiar creatures that reminded him of all the times he had stepped onto an amefuto field. But there seemed to be less of them now because as he grabbed the discus, hung it from his hand over the side of the wheelchair, and then twisted his body to swing it up and release it, he knew he had nothing to fear and little to be nervous about. It was his win, and he knew it from the minute the disk left his hand. Twenty yards. A solid win.

Sena gave a thumbs-up in the direction of his friends in the stands and then went back to his group to watch the other classifications compete. Hikaru lightly punched his shoulder when Sena rejoined the group.

"Man, Kobayakawa –kun, where'd you learn to throw like that?"

Sena shrugged. "I just threw it. But the disk felt so light! I have a friend who's been helping me strengthen my arms, so it's thanks to that person that I could throw as far as I did."

"Sounds like a good friend."

"Mmm, he is."

* * *

When it came time for the 60 meter race, Sena felt the butterflies come back stronger than ever. It was similar to his first amefuto game in that he felt like an amateur and completely out of place. It didn't help that of the five competitors he was the only one without a sport wheelchair. They also all had gloves while he was left with his callused hands. But unlike his first game, he wanted to be here.

He ignored the looks he was getting from the other guys on either side of him and focused on the finish line. It was so close; his first push would mean everything. Sena crossed his left arm in front of his chest and his right came up to pull it closer to his body to enhance the stretch. He counted to twenty, and then repeated the same thing for his other arm.

One of the track volunteers made his way to the group and Sena smiled to see it was Takami. The quarterback gave a brief nod his way and then stopped in front of the five racers to give finial instructions.

"Right, you guys can line up once I'm done talking to you. You'll hear one short whistle and that's your cue to get ready to push," Takami help up a small metal whistle that hung on a cord around his neck. "Two seconds later, I'll blow it again and that's your cue to start."

They all nodded, and the brief happiness he felt at seeing his friend melted into seriousness. This is was it.

Takami left and they all lined up at the starting line. Sena couldn't help but look at the biceps of the guys on either side of him. The one on the left was older, easily 30, and had arms bigger than Shin. Sena gulped, but then forced himself to look ahead. His opponents didn't matter, not like they did in amefuto. They weren't going to block or tackle him. They were just going to stay in their own lanes. What did matter was that invisible laser line 60 meters ahead whose breaking would determine the winner.

Takami blew the whistle and Sena placed his hands on his wheels just before eleven o'clock on his wheels. He barely noted the flurry of movement from the other racers doing the same. There was just enough time to take a deep breath and then the whistle sounded for a second time.

Sena pushed, leaning forward to extend his arms past three o'clock on his wheel before pulling them back to where they started to give another push. He focused on a point just beyond where he knew the laser crossed the track, just past the finish line, in a way to encourage his body to give all it had the entire time. Just that spot mattered, and he wondered if this was how Musashi saw the field when he kicked. All his concentration was on the pumping of his arms and that spot.

And then it was over and all five racers where in a small huddle, panting hard and sending tired smiles at each other. Sena glanced towards the score board and found himself surprised to see his name in second place. He had wanted to win, had aimed for it, but in all honesty hadn't really figured he would. He didn't know about his opponents, and it had taken time to get to the top position he held as Eyeshield. The object really was just to do his best, though it would have been nice to win.

12 seconds. He did 60 meters in 12 seconds. The winner did it in 11.82. Sena grimaced. So close!

"Hey, don't look like that."

Sena turned to look at the older man, the one with the biceps who was in the lane next to him. "You beat everyone else by over a second, and you're the first to get close to me, even with a regular wheelchair. Plus, it's a pretty good time. The world record for this event in our class in ten point eight two seconds."

"I thought the record was six point nine seconds."

"That's for the 55 meters, and a different classification. The guy who did that wasn't in a wheelchair."

"Oh…"

The other guy laughed. "What'd you do, look at records for the Paralympics or something?"

"Hehe, yeah actually."

"What's your name kid?"

"Kobayakawa Sena."

"Ito Daisuke," He held out his hand and Sena shook it. "Are you doing any other events?"

"No."

"Pity, I wanted to verse you again."

"I'll be here next year."

"You better, otherwise I'll hunt you down."

* * *

"Sena!" Mamori called, waving her hand in the air after the meet was done and the athletes and spectators were allowed to mingle again. "Sena!" She watched the brunette look around the crowd and then suddenly Juumonji was beside him and the two of them made their way over. They were all standing in a group off to the side in front of the few exhibition tents that were left.

"I thought you were going win," Hiruma stated after popping a bubble.

"Heh heh, I'll win next year. I did get first place in the discus." Sena turned towards Shin and gave a small half bow. "Thank you again for the weights and training schedule Shin-san."

"You're welcome, Sena-kun."

Mamori smiled at him. She was so proud of him, sitting here with a true smile on his face, nothing like the painful one Sena wore when he first got back to Japan.

"So, who wants ice cream?"

Hiruma snapped his attention to Musashi. "You paying old man?"

"Why not?"

"Yes!" Monta and Kurita shared a high five.

Mamori watched Sena and Juumonji share a look and hid a giggle behind her hand. Sakuraba eyed her curiously and she turned it into a soft throat clearing cough. "Let's race. Musashi pays for ice cream and everything else is paid for by the last person there."

"No fair!" she heard Sena call from behind her as everyone broke rank and ran back towards the parking lot. "I can't dodge between people any more!"

Oops, she hadn't thought of that. Oh well, Unsui could drive really fast.

* * *

Sena sighed as his friends slipped out of sight, and then turned to look at Enma's amefuto captain. "Aren't you worried about being the last one?"

"Not really. Here," Unsui held out a small bag towards Sena. "I noticed you didn't have any."

"Nani?" Sena muttered as he took the bag and peak inside. It was a pair of racing gloves. Eagerly, he pulled them out. They were ash gray with a neon green V on the back of the hand, the padding on the palm a rich black.

"Wow! Thanks Unsui-san!"

"I know you don't want help training for this stuff, but I wanted to support you some how."

"You did enough coming to see me."

"I wanted to do something more. Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

There were screams from up ahead as a van came down the path, forcing people to jump out of the way. Not any van, but the one they came in. It stopped in front of the two of them and the side door was thrown open, Kurita, Riku, and Monta behind it.

"Get your asses in here, fucking trash!" Agon yelled from the driver's seat

"Hie!" Sena exclaimed as Unsui gave him a push towards the van and his teammates pulled him in, wheelchair and all. The side door slammed shut at the same time as Unsui shut the passenger side door. Agon pressed on the throttle and pulled on the wheel, causing the van to rise up on two wheels as it turned. Sena found himself thrown out of his wheelchair and half on Riku.

"Watch it!" the blonde snapped to Agon, who ignored him.

"Ano? Where's Ishimaru-kun?" Sena asked, gripping on to Riku as Agon made another hasty turn and screams from the event attendee's filtered through the van to his ears.

"I'm here! Thanks for remembering me Sena-kun," Ishimaru waved his hand from behind the back row of seats. For some reason he was riding in the trunk.

Agon went over a bump and Monta caught Sena's wheelchair before it crushed him against the side. "Slow down max!" he shouted. "The middle doesn't have seats, remember?" Sena's parents had removed the captain seats to make room for the wheelchair hold and ramp in the van, leaving only the front seats and the back row untouched. Kurita was talking up the entire back row by himself.

"No way that fucking quarterback is getting there first!" Agon snarled.

There was another sharp turn. Riku wrapped his arms around Sena as they went sliding into the side of the van again, Monta holding the wheelchair back from hitting them. Sena winced. He'd have bruises later.

"Kurita, take Sena. Keep him between your legs." Riku pushed him over and Kurita gently plopped him on the ground between the linebacker's legs. Sena's eyes were on the level of Kurita's knees.

Sena wanted to say he didn't need the protecting, but as Agon jerked the wheel again he was glad to hit flesh and not hard plastic. Monta and Riku had stood up in a crouch, balancing themselves with hands on the van's side.

"C'mon," Riku told Monta, "Let's tie down the wheelchair so we don't have to worry about it hitting us."

They arrived at the ice cream parlor whole, though Sena managed to get a couple more bruises. Agon had slammed the breaks on and then quickly made a hard right. Sena had slid from between Kurita's legs and then been thrown sideways to crash into Monta's. It might have been okay if they ended up beating Hiruma there, but they hadn't. But at least none of them got stuck with the bill.

**

* * *

A/N:** It must me said that I have no idea how wheelchair events actual happen. Everything I know came from a youtube video (www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=M_o1FDU3W5c) and two PDFs (http:/assets (dot) usoc (dot) org/assets/documents/attached_file/filename/22887/2010_WHEELCHAIR_INFORMATION (dot) pdf and http:/assets (dot) usoc (dot) org/assets/documents/attached_file/filename/22619/INDOOR_Records-Men (dot) pdf). While these resources were really helpful, most of this really is how I just imagine things. I have no idea what the structure and proceedings of such an event are.

I had had a scene in mind where everyone played wheelchair football, but I decided that the story didn't really need more than one sport scene. The drama is what you're all looking forward too, right? ^_~ So, maybe it'll show up in an omake, maybe not, but you know that we'll see relationships form in the next chapter. And remember, they'll be angsty relationships. Cuz I don't think I've ever written a happy one. Sorry Sena, sorry Mamori, you're gonna suffer so.


	5. Chapter 5

Beating the Odds

_By Uniasus_

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Mamori hadn't really considered medicine as a career. She had been leaving more towards business and doing market research, but when Sena came home she couldn't help but give more interest to the field. That's not to say she was going to switch career plans, just that her interests had broadened a bit. So she took to volunteering at the local hospital every other weekend. Mamori had wanted to work at Shuuei, maybe help with Sena, but Hiruma, and Juumonji surprisingly, had convinced her not to. Sena didn't want help.

She didn't get it, but understood it was a male thing, and let it slide. So she worked at the physical therapy clinic attached to the hospital. It was all paperwork, but she watched the therapists work and asked questions to learn things that would help Sena when he asked for. If that ever happened. But she was learning things that helped out Saikyoudai players when they were injured. Mamori couldn't help but wonder over the 'what if I studied to be sports trainer' thought once in a while, but things didn't change still. It was her senior year after all, a bit late to change majors.

It was shortly after Sena's track meet that she heard about it. Two of the therapists were discussing a new treatment for paraplegics abroad. And it wasn't just a more effective way to go about therapy.

"So," Mamori said, scanning over the abstract of the article between the two doctors, "It's a surgery that does what?"

"Repairs nerve damage." Dr. Saka took a sip of his Coke. "Here at the clinic, we try to do it naturally, moving the limbs to encourage neurons to repair themselves so the patient can move again. Unlike other cells, they don't reproduce. That's why brain damage is irreversible – you can't grow new brain cells. You have to make due with what you have left. And it's those same types of cells that are in the spinal column and in our muscles that make us move. "

"Is that why, even after years of therapy some people still can't control their limbs?"

Dr. Kodama nodded and opened up the patient file in front of her. "Take Manami-san for example. Due to the amount of nerve damage that was done during the car accident, we're considering a full recovery to be her walking again. She'll have a limp, never play volleyball again, but based on past cases and research, that's all her body will be capable of doing. Her neurons won't be able to repair themselves much more than that. I mean, it happens, where a patient exceeds expectations, but it's never a dramatic difference."

"Can you tell when a patient is not going to make any more progress?"

Dr. Kodama answered again. "They plateau, they stop showing improvements."

"Like Karin-chan?" _Like Sena?_ Her friend had been focused on training for the race, but Kobayakawa-san had told Mamori that her son hadn't shown any improvements in his legs for a couple of months. Either at Shuuei or his at home training. Now no longer focused on his time, Mamori had been able to pick up a small dark cloud hovering behind Sena every time they met. The Enma student could stand, flex his feet, but couldn't actually walk.

"Exactly like Karin-chan."

"That's why this is so interesting." Dr. Saka tapped the medical journal. "This group of researchers have created a thin, wire device to bridge damaged nerves. That's not new. What is knew is another group has created cells that can act as near perfect neurons, which while can't divide can expand to cover larger areas than normal neurons. And then that first group covered that wire with these new neurons and implanted it in patients that had plateaued. Most patients saw improvements in their mobility, though the results varied. One teen made an almost full recovery!"

"Wow. That's incredible!" Mamori turned her attention again to the article on the table. "Think it'll come to Japan?"

Dr. Saka shrugged. "Who knows?"

"If it did, Shuuei would be in on it. Universities update themselves more than hospitals, they have the cash, and Shuuei is one of the better funded medical schools in Japan. Though this procedure it pretty new, still experimental. It might not turn out to be anything that can made available to the public. They're still monitoring the patients that received this treatment. There could be long term effects that don't show up till later."

* * *

Long term effects aside, Mamori spent the whole next week thinking about the procedure. She had taken the article home, did further research on the subject, and kept thinking _with this, Sena can run again_. Yes, Sena was a grown man now, a college student, but she has never been able shake off the feeling of responsibility she felt towards him. And if this was a possibility, a real working chance, she knew Sena would want to know. So first things first, see if there was a chance.

It had taken a bit of searching and phone calls to figure out who to talk too, but eventually she had set up a time to meet with the head of surgery, a Doctor John Kollin who had emigrated from the United States.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Kollin-sensei." Mamori gave a bow to him as the met in one of the lobbies of Shuuni's medical buildings.

"The pleasure is mine Anezaki-chan. You brought an interesting article to my attention." He turned and led her towards an elevator. "My office is on the fourth floor," he explained.

Mamori trailed behind him, impressed by his Japanese and height. He was about as tall as Takami-san. "I'm sure you would have heard about it eventually."

The alternated between small talk and silence in the elevator and down the hall to Dr. Kollin's office, but once in it Kollin seemed to really light up.

"I'm not to sure how much you know about this type of medicine, but that procedure is really new and innovative. Quite extraordinary, and I bet there are people in Japan who could benefit from it. Give it a few years, and a good follow-up to that initial research study, and we'll probably be performing it here at Shuuni."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Kollin-sensei. I have a friend that would benefit greatly from this procedure, and I was hoping you would perform it. As a follow up to the article. A case study, if you will."

Dr. Kollin leaned forward in his chair. "Thing just don't work that way Anezaki-chan. Experimental procedures can't be used when ever we feel like it. There are restrictions, here at Shuuei, in Japan, in the entire medical world. And I would need specialized equipment to do this. Not to mention I feel as if I would be stepping on a colleague's toes. The set up for such a surgery, because it's new and would have to be done as a study, which means several potential patients, would take time. Not to mention getting the okay from the researchers."

"So that's a no, you can't." She tried not to let disappointment taint her voice.

The American leaned back. "I'm saying, it would take time to set anything up, and it would be hard to do. But I like challenges – consider it part of me being American, and I had a suspicion that you had contacted be about wanting this surgery to be performed on someone you know. I've already contacted the researchers, and they're please that I am interested in performing the procedure here and following the cases."

"R-really?" She leaned forward in her seat, eyes alight.

"Yes, really." He chuckled.

"That's wonderful Kollin-sensei, that's, oh thank you! Thank you so much!"

"It was no trouble, Anezaki-chan. I'll give you a call when I have all the details sorted out, okay?"

* * *

Most of the details were sorted out within the month. Dr. Kollin was personally invested in the project, as he had a young niece in America that could benefit from such a surgery. The issue however, was cost.

"This is too new, and too expensive, for the government to foot the entire bill. The patients involved in the study will have to pay a lot of money to be involved in it, and it's expensive. Eight million yens."

"That's a lot," Mamori answered, sitting down on her bed before her knees collapsed on her.

"I know. I don't know your friend's situation, but do you think he can afford it? Take out some loans?"

"Maybe. Kollin-sensei, my friend used to be a really fast runner, but now he can't walk. This surgery, what are the chances of him being able to run like he used too?"

"Slim, maybe five percent that he'll be able to run like he used too. But that he'll be able to run at all, like a light jog, eighty percent. Granted, this is all based on a limited collection of patients to extrapolate results from and I don't know about his particulars – "

"That's okay." Mamori was crying, silent tears running down her checks. "It's a chance, and he's beaten worse odds before. We'll get the money. When does he have to enroll? Pay by? To whom?"

"If you get the money to me by the middle of November, I'll take care of all that for you."

"Thank you so much for your effort, Kollin-sensei. Thank you so much." Mamori hung up, and then started at he cell phone while she held it. Eight million yen was a lot of money, money she knew the Kobayakawa's didn't have. Especially not with the money they still owed the hospital in America.

She would just have to get it another way.

Her phone gave a jingle, showing a text from Hiruma informing her to make she sure brought an edited game play tape to the next practice. Like she would forget that. She snorted. And then paused.

Hiruma.

Hiruma could get the money, somehow. Six weeks to dig up that amount of cash was nothing, not with his connections. It felt slightly wrong, thinking of using blackmail to gain the money Sena needed, but it was something Sena needed. This was a chance, the best one ever since he had come home in May.

It was his only chance.

Mamori could see his face at the airport, staring at his thighs as he told them that his chance of ever playing amefuto again was zero. Walking again was only a thirty percent chance, a thirty percent chance that was rapidly dwindling as Sena still was not improving. But now, with an eighty percent chance of running, _running_, not just walking, Mamori would do anything to get Sena that. Get him into the study.

She texted Hiruma back.

Can we talk after practice tomorrow?

* * *

"So, what'd you want to talk about fucking manager?" Hiruma was typing on his laptop and blowing a bubble, sitting on the floor in front of his locker with his feet propped up on the bench.

"Sena." Mamori said, sitting down next to his feet.

The quarterback popped his bubble gum, and looked up at her. "What about him?"

"I found him a chance."

He stared at her, then shut his laptop. Mamori took that as a sign to continue.

"There's a study being set up at Shuuei, with a new type of surgery, that has shown remarkable results. He'd be able to run again."

"As Eyeshield?"

"The doctor said there was a five percent chance, yes. And eighty that he'd be able to run in any form."

Hirmua didn't have any tells, but Mamori could sense his mood improving. "Those are good odds. Have you told the shrimp this yet?"

"Noo," she squirmed on the bench. "There's, a barrier."

"And you want me to overcome that. Get him in the program."

"Well, yes."

"Who's the guy running it?" Hiruma opened his laptop again.

"Kollin John, but you may not blackmail him!"

"Why the fuck not?"

"Cuz he put a lot of effort into getting this study put together in such a short amount of time. I already asked him to do this for Sena's sake, blackmailing him would be wrong!"

"Then what do you need me for?"

"Money. He couldn't find any founders, so patients who want to be involved in the study have to pay for it themselves."

"And how much is that?" Hiruma reached a hand into the back at his side and pulled out a familiar black notebook.

Mamori sighed, her shoulders slipping a little. She didn't like that notebook, and now that Hiruma was no longer a minor he could get into big trouble if caught. Nowadays, he only blackmailed minor people for simple things – he threatened everyone else – so she knew this task would require extra care to minimize risk.

"Eight million yen."

"Eh, I've gotten more before."

"I know." Her face went flat. "But I want to you to be careful, and not tell Sena about this. Just…let him know he got in the program. And I know this is a big favor, so I'll do whatever you'll want of me in return."

Hiruma stopped flipping pages and looked up at her. He popped a bubble. "Whatever I want?"

"As long as it's within my ability and moral code."

He started at her awhile, and then went to work on his laptop. "Be my girlfriend."

Mamori blinked, not expecting that. She had been thinking something related to the team. Well, it was a common misconception that they were dating. A rumor that flitted in and out since their second year at Deimon. And Hiruma wasn't a bad guy, she understood him.

"And we're going Dutch. Don't expect me to pay for you all the time."

"Of, of course not!"

"So we have a deal?" His sharp gaze landed on her face. "I get eight million yen and you agree to be my girlfriend."

"Yes. Oh, you need to get it to Kollin-sensei before mid November."

"I'll get it to him within a week, Anezaki-chan."

Mamori could tell her name was foreign on his tongue, but she liked it a lot more than 'fucking manager'. "Thank you, Hiruma-kun."

* * *

**A/N:** You guys are probably wondering where the angst is in this relationship, right? Well, it'll come. It'll come.

So, I just finished rereading the manga, taking notes the entire time. And I've realized the wikia for ES21 is lacking a lot. And that I have pages and pages of notes detailing characters (from birthdays to numbers to how they call others) and breakdown of games. I'm willing to share, if any other ES21 wants them.

Also reminded as to just how racists the manga is. And also how it's one of the most inspirational things I've ever read.

Medical notes: So, after writing this I conferred with my doctor of a mother and found out that yes, neuron's do replicate, tis how they regenerate to fix wounds, but they do so very differently than other cells. Thus, the medical knowledge imparted to you hear is based on truth and can be seen as plausible, but it most likely would go down differently in real life. Neurons are funky guys. And I also have no idea how medical procedure in Japan goes.

Timeline: May be screwed up a bit, not that I've discovered the Japanese school year starts in April. So, roughly:

March - Sena shot

May - Sena returns

July - The track and field event

mid/late August - where this chapter ends

Again, how realistically medical this is? No clue. Just go with it ^_^


End file.
